Zuko Drabble Series
by Alabaster86
Summary: Like the title says, a series of drabbles about my favorite Avatar character. They will encompass any and all points in his life randomly.
1. Chapter 1

**Zuko Drabble**

The gentle motion of the small, obsolete (in the eyes of the Fire Nation military) metal ship comforted him. Zuko was stretched out on his mattress which lay just a few inches off the floor of his cabin. It was almost completely dark, like what the bottom of the ocean must be like, Zuko thought.

The young prince, just days into his exile, sought out the darkness whenever he could. Uncle was cheerful and optimistic. The tea loving retired general encouraged his nephew to come above board and enjoy the salty sea air and sunshine. Zuko preferred to sulk.

He put his hand up to his face and felt the thick wad of bandage that still covered his burn. Iroh peeled it off every day and placed a smelly, greasy ointment on it to prevent infection and encourage the healing process. Zuko hadn't looked yet. Though unable to admit it to anyone, much less himself, the prince was terrified.

It still hurt and itched almost constantly. But the pain was nothing compared to the searing, howling agony that he endured moments after his father pushed that flaming fist directly onto the left side of his face. Zuko trembled and curled himself into a tight protective ball.

A soft knock on the cool hard metal of the door woke the young teen from his reverie. He shifted slightly but made no move to open the door and did not acknowledge the knock.

"Zuko," his uncle called. "It's a beautiful day. Why don't you come out of there and have a look around."

"Go away," he snarled in response.

The words hurt Zuko more than they did Iroh. He could picture his uncle sighing and shaking his head, then proceeding back above board to continue a game of Pai Sho. What did Uncle see in that game anyway? It was a waste of time….nothing else. His father didn't spend time playing games.

Much later, after he had picked at his dinner and Iroh had changed his bandage yet again, Zuko crept onto the deck. It was nearing midnight and was pitch black. The tiny sliver of a moon was hidden behind a mass of grey clouds. Zuko clenched the ship's rail and looked out into the huge expanse of ocean. His white bandage stood out starkly on the nearly deserted deck.

Maybe tomorrow he would come out into the light. The Western Air Temple would entice him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Memory of a Girl**

Here they were at another unknown port, a small Earth Kingdom town, getting supplies, and as Uncle subtly put it "burning off some manly energy." As usual, Zuko stayed behind on the small steel ship. His crew would come back at sunrise, drunk and loud and bumping into things. They disgusted Zuko. He knew what else the men did in town. He was only fourteen but he had overheard their lewd conversations enough times and he had an idea what a man did with a woman, or with another man.

Sometimes, in the quiet of his room, his one place of respite, an urge would overcome him; he tried so very hard to suppress it. What was the point of giving in to animal needs? For the last year, Zuko had looked at his face in his bedroom's mirror, felt the scar with his pale fingertips, tracing its enormity, feeling the roughness of the destroyed tissue and eventually turning away, unwilling to see anymore. What girl would ever look at him with desire or affection or love? What girl would ever see beyond the mass of pink and red covering the left side of his face? He didn't need more rejection. His father had given him enough to last a lifetime.

Occasionally though, the image of one girl would slip through, unwelcome yet welcome at the same time. What would she think if she could see? Would she sense his shame and his dishonor? Would her narrow, astute gold eyes see through his skin and bone to the heart of him? Or would she laugh, scream in horror, turn away?

One very small part of Zuko thought that she might accept him, disfigurement and all. The girl with the silky midnight hair and skin paler than the moon liked him once. They had a secret bond, an alliance of souls; driven together in escaping Azula, staying together simply because they enjoyed it.

She smelled good, vanilla and jasmine and her hand was soft when he held it. Zuko recalled his last look at her. She was already tall, angular, with budding breasts that softened her appearance. Her mouth was a thin line over straight white teeth and her voice had deepened into something rough and sensual.

"Mai," he said aloud.

No one could hear. He could do what he wanted. Zuko moved his hand downward.


	3. Chapter 3

**Zuko Drabble #3**

**Swords**

The dao swords gleamed in the soft light of Zuko's cabin. Once a week, he cleaned them, whether they had been used or not. His one and only sword master had _first_ taught him about caring for the swords carefully, keeping them clean and sharp. The banished prince of the Fire Nation only got five lessons from the man, back when he was thirteen years old, his burn only just healed.

After that, Zuko taught himself, continuing in his own unique way, what the master had begun. He felt a thrill every time he took the blades out, whether to polish or to practice. He knew that Ozai, his father and the Fire Lord, the man who had exiled him, would not approve. Swords were for non benders. Those who could create fire and use it for intimidation and destruction did not need conventional weapons. It was an affront to Agni, the God of fire. It was an affront to his heritage, his lineage, his family. Zuko didn't care.

After the sun had set, most of the crew was off duty and sleeping. A skeleton crew of two remained on the bridge, keeping watch for the avatar or other vessels. That's when Zuko snuck out of his cabin, dual swords slung across his back, and climbed down the steps that led to the empty deck. He liked it best when the moon was hidden by clouds and the darkness was deep, penetrated only by a few scattered lanterns hanging from the lower level of the command tower. He moved with the grace and agility of a leopard tracking its prey. He felt free, free from scrutiny, free from anguish, free from thought. Zuko danced, the swords his partner, moving them in beautiful, wide arcs, bringing them in tight against his sculpted body, thrusting, jabbing, blocking.

When the young prince was done, he crept stealthily up the stairs again, glided silently to his room, and placed his swords back in their place of honor on the wall. Zuko undressed and slid under the covers of his bed. Sleep came quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Zuko Drabble #4**

**Fire Within, Fire Without **

More than anything, Zuko wanted to be a firebender. It was in his blood, but blood didn't always pan out the way it was supposed to. Great Grandfather Sozin, Fire Lord Azulon, his grandfather, and Prince Ozai, his father, were all fire benders. His Uncle Iroh, Ozai's brother was a great bender too, known as the Dragon of the West. So when Zuko turned six and still had not shown any signs of fire bending, he began to worry. The situation would not have scared him so much if Azula, his little sister, only four years old, hadn't begun to bend either. But she had.

Father's eyes had gleamed when the tiny girl, already a force to be reckoned with, closed her eyes, concentrated, and produced a small flame in the palm of her hand. Every day, once a day, Ozai tested his children. That was about all the time he spent with them, except for formal family meals or audiences before Fire Lord Azulon. Once a year, they took a brief vacation on Ember Island. The children saw more of their father during those few days than they did the rest of the year.

Zuko was up next. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to push everything out of his head except the image of fire; just a little fire, a spark even, would be enough. He failed, again. Ozai sighed and turned his attention back to Azula. He spoke of getting the finest teachers, of practice schedules, and brilliance. Zuko chewed on his lip and allowed his head to fall forward. He could feel the beginnings of tears prick at the back of his eyes.

"I won't cry," he whispered fiercely to himself.

Turning back to Ozai and Azula he blurted out, "Father, let me try again. I'll bet I can do it now."

"Do not interrupt me! You get one opportunity every day. You failed once again. Tomorrow, you will get another chance. Now go!" Ozai bellowed.

Zuko ran out of the courtyard. He could hear Azula's giggles. They followed him on the wind, taunting him. He ran through the palace, looking for his mother, Ursa. Servants looked at him with pity. They could read the failure on the little boy's face, for young Zuko found it difficult to hide his feelings.

Ursa was in the library, picking out a new book to read to Zuko. It was a ritual the two had developed years earlier. Just before bedtime, Ursa sat with Zuko and read for half an hour, everything from adventure stories to romantic poetry. The little boy enjoyed the words, but mostly he enjoyed the musical sound of his mother's voice and the attention she gave him. It was something special, just for the two of them. The princess had tried the same thing with Azula but was rebuffed soundly. _There _was a child who knew what she wanted.

The beautiful woman turned at the sound of light footsteps on the marble floor. She smiled when she saw it was Zuko who had entered the library, but her expression quickly changed when she saw the sadness on her son's face.

"Zuko, come here," she said softly.

The boy ran into her arms. He felt warm and safe and loved all at once. His mother smell wonderful, like flowers, and her hands were soft as she stroked his head, finally giving his pony tail a playful tug.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked.

"I didn't make fire….AGAIN, but 'zula did. She's only four. Father looked so happy when she did it. But he hates me."

"Oh, Zuko, he doesn't hate you. He's your father."

"He likes **her** better. I can tell. If I could firebend than maybe he would like me too."

Ursa carefully kept her face neutral. The terrible fact was, Ozai did prefer Azula. He took to her immediately upon her birth, an easy birth, a very healthy infant, and now an early firebender. Ursa's first pregnancy was difficult and Zuko's birth a nightmare. He was early and struggled hard to survive. This 'imperfection' seemed to almost disgust the prince and for all intents and purposes, Ozai had dismissed Zuko then and there. Ursa knew that, had Zuko shown prodigious talent at an early age, Ozai would forget all the earlier troubles and embrace his son.

But, in addition to not showing any special abilities yet, Zuko's character had softness and empathy, an eagerness to love and be loved, that irked Ozai. Those traits would not a good Fire Lord make, according to the prince.

"Zuko, honey, I've told you before…..just try your hardest and everything else will follow."

"What if I'm not a bender at all? I can't be Fire Lord when I'm all grown up."

"_I'm _not a bender. Does that make me less than your father or Azula or Uncle Iroh?"

Zuko shook his head vigorously. Ursa was the center of his universe. She could do no wrong and was perfection in his eyes.

"Well, then, you could be a non bender and still be a great leader."

"Really?"

"Sure," Ursa replied convincingly. "Still, I have a feeling that you will produce fire one day very soon."

Zuko smiled and gave his mother a hug.

"What book did you pick, Mom?"

"It's a play called, 'Love among the Dragons.' It's one of my favorites and I would like to share it with you."

The little prince looked forward to bedtime.

* * *

It was late. Reading time was long over. Zuko turned over in his huge bed, almost huge enough to swallow him up. Something had awakened him. He rubbed sleepily at his golden eyes and scooted over to the edge of the bed, placed his feet on the floor and crept to the bedroom door. Slowly, he opened it and entered the hallway. It looked scary at night. The curtains moved liked spirits in the cool autumn breeze and the dark corridor seemed to go on forever.

Zuko placed one small foot on the burgundy runner that covered the center of the corridor. He walked toward his parents' room. The boy was certain that he heard voices coming from beyond the massive double doors. Yes, that was Mom's voice. She sounded angry, maybe even scared. Zuko wanted to open the door but he was terrified, stuck to his spot on the soft material of the runner, unable to propel himself forward, toward the door.

"He thinks you hate him," Ursa said bitterly.

"I don't hate him," his father replied.

Zuko inhaled deeply as if in relief.

"But he's useless and weak and emotional."

The boy wasn't sure what 'emotional' meant, but he knew 'weak' and knew it wasn't a good thing to be, especially for Father. Tears threatened for the second time that day.

"Ozai, he's just a little boy, six years old. He only wants you to love him and be proud of him."

"Then he needs to give me something to be proud of," Ozai replied smartly.

"My Agni, you are cold. Zuko is a gift. He's a wonderful boy. He's sweet and loving and curious and bright. He's tenacious and impatient and has a temper. Do you know any of this or are you too wrapped up in our daughter to see all that our son has to offer."

"I don't place value on those qualities, except maybe tenacity. Look Ursa, the boy's been weak since the day he was born. Maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then Azula would be my heir. She's a far better one."

Zuko heard flesh strike flesh as Ursa lashed out, striking her husband hard across the face with her open hand. Ozai grunted but said nothing. The boy imagined the smirk on his father's face. Mobilized now by fear for his mother, Zuko moved forward and reached up for the door handle. Before he could pull the door open, Ursa emerged. She was shocked to see him standing there but didn't scold. Instead, she scooped Zuko up into her arms and carried him back to bed. Wiping away her own tears and her son's, Ursa lay down on top of the covers as if guarding her little prince.

* * *

_Author's Note: It seems that very little I write becomes what I initially intended for it. This particular drabble was to be about Zuko's first flame. It became what it is instead. In the end, I wanted to show the origins of Ozai's 'distaste' for Zuko and the origins of Zuko's desperatation to please he father. Also, Ozai's attitude here will influence a certain decision that Ursa has to make about four years in the future. _

_I also like exploring the opposite side….Ursa's love for Zuko and his love for her._

_I think the way I portray Ozai re Zuko makes sense. We still don't know why Ozai is the way he is as opposed to Iroh, but it's clear in the series that he disdains the particular traits that are so very much a part of Zuko and encourages the ones that are so much a part of Azula._

_That 'lucky to be born' line from the end of Book One, always sticks in my head. Ozai must have been referring to __**something**__ when he told Zuko that._

_I will still write a drabble re the first time Zuko makes fire._


	5. Chapter 5

**Zuko Drabble #5**

Portraits

The portrait painter, commissioned by the Fire Nation royal family, was an old man, not as old as Azulon, but much more frail. The charcoal shook in his hand as he sketched a rudimentary outline of Ozai, Ursa, Zuko and Azula. Zuko knelt in front of his father, looking straight ahead, his hands in his lap. He didn't smile. Neither did the rest of his family.

Years later, it burned.

* * *

In his room, hidden away so that Azula wouldn't wreck it or mock him for keeping it, Zuko had a portrait of his mother. It was tucked inside his wardrobe, hidden behind piles of unused clothing, secured on a shelf right at the back.

During those first few painful weeks after her mysterious disappearance, Zuko did not look at the portrait. He simply snatched it from her sitting room and put it away. His mother's face was still sharp and clear in his mind. He could still hear her laugh and feel her warmth.

Months later, though, her features were blurry. It became harder and harder to close his eyes and see her there in his mind. That's when he pulled the portrait out of his wardrobe and just stared. He was careful to lock the door to his room first. Then, when her lovely features were distinct to him once again, he put the portrait back.

It was waiting for Zuko when he finally returned to the Fire Nation.

* * *

Mai and Zuko done in simple black charcoal; no color, faces serious, eyes looking straight ahead. Zuko looked every bit the prince, hair in a topknot, and wearing formal robes. Mai's hair, done in its intricate pattern of buns, her hands tucked inside the voluminous sleeves of her robes, looked the part of elegant noble.

It was framed in a subdued red and hung on the even lighter red of Mai's bedroom wall. A delicate bit of silk, almost pink, hugged the top portion of the frame and drooped down on either side, giving the stark drawing a softer appearance. Mai had commissioned it as soon as the couple set foot on Fire Nation soil. When Zuko looked at it, scroll in hand, he felt love and sorrow and regret.

* * *

At the Western Air Temple, when he felt particularly lonely or needed encouragement, Zuko pulled out the portrait of Iroh and stared down at eyes full of wisdom and mirth. With his uncle's backing, Zuko was almost certain that he could achieve anything.

* * *

A hallway full of portraits; past Fire Lords depicted as glorious, brilliant, righteous, powerful. They intimidated a young Zuko and sickened an older one. Fire Lord himself now, Zuko wanted a simpler portrait, something his children would one day look at and smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Zuko Drabble # 6**

Lu Ten

Azula had friends, two, if you could call them that. Mai and Ty Lee were more like captives of the princess's almost tangible will to dominate and control. They were like test subjects in an experiment, practice for the role of Fire Lord that Azula was certain would one day be hers. Funny thing about test subjects; they don't always behave the way you expect them to.

No one came to the palace to see Zuko. Well, Mai liked seeing the prince, looked forward to it even, but her visits were under Azula's control. Any bond she had with her friend's older brother was formed almost covertly.

Cousin Lu Ten, beloved son of Uncle Iroh, father's brother, was different. He loved Zuko. Lu Ten was like a dream older brother. Eight years Zuko's senior, Lu Ten was god like in the boy's eyes. And he made a point of spending time with his little cousin. After his tutor left, and firebending practice was over, Lu Ten sought out the boy. He gave Zuko piggy back rides, let him win at tag and hide and go seek and even gifted him with his most prized marbles.

He left when Zuko was just eight. At sixteen, he was ready to join his father in the military and boarded a Fire Nation ship for Ba Sing Se. He was eager to go, eager to show prowess as a soldier, eager to see his father again.

Zuko, with his mother beside him, watched Lu Ten's ship leave. He clutched the soft cloth bag full of marbles close to his chest. He made sure that the drawstring was tight so no marbles could fall out, rolling away to Agni knows where. And he remembered the feeling of Lu Ten's arms around him, his whispered promise to come back when he could. They could visit the beach again. Zuko liked that.

Two years later, Lu Ten was dead. He never made it back home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Zuko Drabble #7**

Jet

Every time Zuko looked at the teen, _his _age probably, he wanted to knock that stupid twig or grass stalk, or whatever it was out of his mouth. It was _so _Jet; relaxed, casual, full of charm. He was almost like another Iroh and much as Zuko loved his uncle, one was enough to have around.

He was an opportunist. Jet leapt on Zuko's blatant disgust with the ferry's food. He didn't have to persuade Zuko to help free some of the captain's much finer stock. The Fire Nation prince, posing as a refugee, told himself that he joined Jet because he was hungry and because both he and the rest of the passengers deserved better than they had been given. Zuko convinced himself that it wasn't because of the teen's charisma or his_ own_ love of stealth.

Jet was persuasive too. He sidled up to Zuko the next morning as the firebender looked out across the water, mist hovering ghost like over the stretch of blue, and spouted words meant to inspire some kind of unity. Jet assumed the young man's horrific scar was a stimulus for hate, something for the two to bond over. Jet was right, but not in the way he thought. Zuko's scar brought about self doubt and self loathing, not hate for the 'vile' Fire Nation and not a desire to connect with victims or outcasts. Zuko's scar was much more personal than that.

Besides, Jet already had followers, skilled fighters like their leader. Smellerbee and Longshot were loyal and protective. Zuko saw in their eyes that both would do almost anything for Jet. There was a closeness borne of years surviving together and that was something Zuko had never experienced.

Zuko envied Jet. But the young man with the arrogant smirk, rag tag armor and hook swords, was not persuasive enough. As he and Iroh made their way out into Ba Sing Se, Zuko wondered if he would ever see Jet again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Zuko Drabble #8**

**The Blue Spirit**

**The mask sunk slowly, blue and white grin looking up at Zuko through the water of Lake Laogai, mocking him or mourning its own death, Zuko wasn't sure. **

**The prince of the Fire Nation wasn't supposed to assume a secret identity, to forgo his firebending for the lesser skills of stealth and swordsmanship. But Zuko's situation was different and desperate and called for the taking of unusual measures. **

**He saw the Blue Spirit mask at an Earth Kingdom festival during his first year of banishment. The blue and white was so foreign that Zuko was immediately drawn to it. He bought the mask in secret and hid it away in a box, kept under the meditation table in his room aboard his ship.**

**Zuko only took it out when everyone was sleeping or on shore leave for a few hours. He put it over his face and tied the cloth strips that held the mask in place. His scar was gone. Zuko was gone. It felt good.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Zuko Drabble #9**

Ba Sing Se

He knew it was the world's largest city but still, the sheer scope of Ba Sing Se astounded Zuko. The capitol city of the Fire Nation was miniscule in comparison.

Zuko's Uncle Iroh was more familiar with the fabled city, having laid siege to it for six hundred days during his years as a general. He and his troops never broke through its infamous walls. So Iroh now walked through the city streets for the first time.

As refugees, they were relegated to the lower ring; poor, crowded and depressing. It didn't surprise Zuko that Iroh was excited, holding his new vase stuffed full of flowers, as if that could transform the dinginess of their surroundings. He spoke of jobs in a tea shop, of young girls whom Zuko should bring back to their apartment. The old man was ready to make a home in the huge metropolis, never giving the Fire Nation another thought. Iroh had the ability to find good in any situation, a quality that had both buoyed and annoyed Zuko over the years.

Zuko, on the other hand, could not let go of all he had known, of who he was and who he should one day be. Ba Sing Se was just a stopover, a step in his seemingly endless and convoluted journey back to the palace where he belonged. He would _never_ call it home. He would _never _be happy here.


	10. Chapter 10

**Zuko Drabble #10**

First Flame

Eight years old; Ozai had given up on his son ever bending fire. He, himself, had started at age five, Iroh had as well, and Azula, the prodigy, began at four years old. Clearly, Zuko was deficient, talentless, useless.

Zuko spent hours every day concentrating on the fire he somehow knew lived inside him. His mother fretted. Zuko was a little boy with dark circles under his golden eyes, an almost perpetual frown and a strange hunger in his eyes. Ursa scolded him gently and drew him away from his efforts with books and walks through the gardens. He spent the time with his mother and enjoyed it, smiling and laughing, his good humor returned, but always at the back of his mind were thoughts of fire and of shame.

His journey to find the fire inside would become a template for Zuko's life…….struggle, perseverance and determination were the qualities that brought him success………sometimes. Nothing much came easy for Zuko.

The boy was stunned, therefore, when one day, (he was about halfway between eight and nine years old), he sat on his bed with closed eyes, thinking dreamily about the latest story his mother had read him (it involved dragons) and felt his hand grow warm. His eyes shot open and saw, no savored, the tiny flame hovering shakily on his palm.

"Maybe the dragons helped me," Zuko wondered, awe clear in his voice.

He was thrilled and relieved most of all. Maybe now his father would be proud of him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Zuko Drabble #11**

Jet #2

Almost from the moment he and Iroh stepped inside Ba Sing Se's lower ring, Zuko felt it. The subtle, eerie sensation of eyes watching his every move niggled at Zuko. His skin prickled and his own eyes darted around, looking for the source of his discomfort. A firebender in the Earth Kingdom could never be too careful.

As he lay on the thin, worn mattress in the bedroom of their dingy apartment, facing away from the window and the drying laundry hanging on makeshift clotheslines, he felt someone watching again and wondered if he was imagining things. No, his senses were too fine tuned. Someone out there was interested in him or Iroh or both of them.

Zuko's thoughts turned to Jet, the Freedom Fighter he had met on the ferry to Ba Sing Se. He was almost certain that Jet suspected they were firebenders. The young man's look in the station, hurt, anger and betrayal all combined to form something terrifying. Jet had _seen_; he knew Iroh heated his own tea. He knew they were the 'enemy'.

So when the confrontation came the next evening, part of Zuko was unsurprised. Jet's face was a mask of hate and self righteous fury as he burst into the teashop and made his accusation, swords drawn and ready to cut down the Fire Nation evil. Zuko had no choice. He had to fight back. Crazy as Jet looked, someone might believe him and that would be the beginning of the end for Iroh and him.

Unsheathing a nearby man's weapon, his own face took on a look of determination. The familiar weight of swords in his hands was comforting. Zuko's body twisted and jumped, his arms whirled and swung as the battle moved outside and onto the narrow stone road.

Zuko was exhilarated. He had not felt that way in a while. So when the Dai Li appeared among the small crowd gathered to watch the fight and took Jet away, part of him was disappointed. The madness in Jet's face, behind the bars of the prison wagon, made him wish for the umpteenth time that he had never set foot in Ba Sing Se.


	12. Chapter 12

**Zuko Drabble #12**

Ember Island Players

The very first time Zuko sees the Ember Island Players (the vacation island's famous acting troupe) perform he is just five years old. He sits next to his mother in the special royal box. It provides an excellent view of the stage and the acoustics are so good that Zuko can hear the actors sigh or mumble or scratch in between their lines.

On Ursa's other side is Ozai and next to the prince is Zuko's little sister, Azula. She's three and she's bored, leaning toward her father but not quite touching him. Zuko sits close to his mother on the cushioned (special for royalty) wooden bench and glances up at her, watching her reactions to the spectacle on stage. When she laughs, Zuko is delighted. The sound makes him feel so good. When Ursa cries, Zuko reaches for her hand and she squeezes it tight, looking over at her son appreciatively.

Ozai looks on blank faced, clearly there only out of duty not enthusiasm.

* * *

Years later Zuko sees another performance in the Ember Island theatre. This time he sits with a different family, the disparate group of young people who have taken him in, accepted him finally for all that he is; the avatar and his friends. The stage and the balconies and the crowds all bring back memories of a happier time with his blood family. But Zuko pushes those thoughts out of his mind and concentrates on the performance at hand. It's a distorted depiction of the last half year in the lives of all concerned. The play makes him shudder with embarrassment and guilt. He sees himself, albeit a cartoonish version, make mistake after mistake, deal hurt after hurt. When he dies at the hands of his play version sister and when Aang dies at the hands of his play version father, Zuko quakes inside.


	13. Chapter 13

**Zuko Drabble #13**

Leaving Home

Two days; that's the amount of time Ozai allowed Zuko to recover from his ordeal at the Agni Kai. Once the time was up, he had better be on that ship or even more dire consequences would befall him. Struggling under the haze of pain killing herbs, semi darkness and a numb despair, Zuko wandered around his room, feeling for the few items he wanted to take with him. He could hear Iroh pacing outside. Uncle never paced; he just wasn't the nervous type. The former general must have sensed the overwhelming tension that followed in Zuko's wake much like the damage that occurred from a particularly destructive storm.

The banished prince found his knife, the one that Iroh sent him from the Earth Kingdom three years earlier, and slipped it into his tunic. He stumbled over the carpet as he made his way from one side of his bed to the other. Cursing under his breath, the thirteen year old shuffled toward his wardrobe. Inside, he felt for the little heart shaped rock that Mai recently gave him. He had put it in a safe place just before leaving for the small indoor arena where the confrontation with his father occurred. Zuko's fingers curled around the rock. It sat alone on a small shelf as if too precious to share space with anything else. He breathed heavily in relief. Maybe he would never see Mai again; chances were that he wouldn't. But right now, he couldn't bear to push her completely from his thoughts. And he knew that he would dream of her.

A book of classic Fire Nation plays his mother once read to him was next, along with the marbles that were once Lu Ten's. Hastily, the boy grabbed for clothing and stuffed the silks and fine cottons into his bag. Finished, Zuko looked around the room (not really his anymore) and felt the sting of tears behind his uncovered eye.


	14. Chapter 14

**Zuko Drabble #14**

Agni Kai

As Fire Lord Zuko signed official documents banning both killing and injuring an opponent during the long standing traditional fire duel called the Agni Kai, his mind wandered back in time to the three he had participated in.

His father, Fire Lord Ozai, stood at the opposite end of the raised tile stage. He was bare-chested, as tradition dictated, and fierce looking. Zuko suddenly felt trapped instead of confident. The towering pillars on either side of the stage hemmed him in and the heat from the braziers filled with fire felt suffocating. The young prince, just thirteen years old, stared at Ozai and beyond him to the huge framed painting of the Fire Nation's symbolic flame. He wondered what had happened to the old general that he was supposed to duel. What had changed?

Ozai paced toward him like a beautiful beast of prey and the crowd looked on with anticipation. Here was a duel that would be talked about for years; father versus son, blood versus blood. Zuko couldn't fight his father; Ozai was far too powerful, far too skilled for the young prince. He was stricken with fear and panic.

Kneeling before his father, tears streaming down his cheeks, Zuko begged for forgiveness, for mercy. That mercy never came; but a flaming fist did, along with the ominous words…'suffering will be your teacher'. In the end, Zuko's father was right. Suffering _was_ Zuko's teacher. And it taught him well.

Zuko wanted nothing more than to remove the smug look from Zhao's face. The commander's words were harsh and dug deep into all the prince's insecurities and hurts. How dare the pompous jerk presume to know what Ozai felt, what Ozai wanted? Zhao wanted to take away Zuko's only chance at regaining his honor; he wanted to capture the avatar himself.

Zuko couldn't let that happen. He couldn't just wait politely while Zhao and his armada left the harbor, leaving his small, pitiful ship behind. He couldn't let the commander get away with saying what he had said. So he issued a challenge and there they both were, standing in the pink glow of the setting sun, ready to duel.

The sixteen year old saw the confidence in Zhao's eyes, the eagerness to shame him as he had been shamed nearly three years earlier by his father. The middle aged man was practically gloating already. And he put Zuko on the defensive immediately. The prince was impetuous and his moves were jerky, too fast, with too little thought behind them.

When Iroh called, 'Break his root,' something clicked in Zuko's mind and he set out to do just that, succeeding with an aggressive flurry of bending that set Zhao on his back. The commander waited for the pain but it never came. Zuko was better than that.

Orange met blue. Brother fought sister. Towering walls of flame, super powered from the comet, joined in the centre of the courtyard where Zuko and Azula dueled for the very fate of their nation and the world. Were it not so tragic, the fire would have been beautiful.

Zuko felt the calmest he had ever felt while battling anyone. There was a new peace inside that instilled his bending with precision and grace. He made no unnecessary moves, conserving his energy.

Azula was all over the place, manic almost, and terrifying. The once perfect princess had lost her tight control. She would do anything, try anything, to defeat her brother and become Fire Lord.

Zuko tried not to look at his sister's face. It saddened him. She was sick and deranged, a powerful caricature of the girl she was just a few weeks before. Her eyes were bloodshot and her mouth was a smeared, crooked red slash. Hair that was always immaculate now flew about her face, partially undone and with a jagged cut out of the brown bangs.

He should have known Azula would fight dishonorably. He shouldn't have goaded her into making lightning. It was _his_ fight, _his _responsibility, so he redirected the forks of blue the best he could while on the run and took the rest into his own body; better his than Katara's.

When it was done and Azula was in chains, Zuko stood with the waterbender and looked at his sister. She wailed and thrashed and blue fire poured from her wide open mouth. Big tears splattered down her face and onto the grating she sat on. Zuko couldn't remember ever seeing Azula cry before. He suddenly felt distant and removed from the scene. He didn't feel anything but relief nor did he want to shed his own tears. Maybe they would come later.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and thanks to JillRG and FireChildSlytherin5 for reviewing.

If you've got any prompt suggestions or something you would like me to drabble, please let me know.

Alabaster


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: I've decided to a little series of character drabbles, looking at certain people through Zuko's eyes._

**Zuko Drabble #15**

Iroh

Zuko had a bad habit of tuning out his Uncle Iroh, not all the time, but when the older man's stories, parables, advice got too obscure, Zuko let his mind drift. And his endless tales of tea, its benefits, joys, flavors, scents drove Zuko crazy. How much could one person love a leaf, after all?

The young prince often felt his face grow warm and the strange sting of embarrassment as his uncle flirted with a woman or sweet talked his way in or out of some mess or other. But he had to admit, Iroh was much better with people than he was. Everyone liked Iroh.

Zuko was amazed at how very rarely he saw his uncle frown or look sad or get angry. It was hard to understand how a person could be so positive and calm, especially when Zuko himself was_ just_ a bit intense and moody and had a nasty temper.

Occasionally, Zuko saw just a flash of hurt or disappointment cross the man's face. He would instantly feel an intense pang of regret but found it hard to apologize. And Iroh always recovered quickly. The man was not one to mope.

Iroh would sacrifice his dignity for the greater good. Besides, Zuko had a feeling that Iroh's definition of dignity differed from his own. The man would play dumb, wear anything, and endure much, without complaining.

Underneath his bumbling old man exterior, Zuko knew a powerful warrior and keen mind resided. Iroh had experienced sorrow and loss, power and the loss of his throne. He was much stronger for it all.

And more important than anything else to Zuko, Iroh gave up more than three years of his life, and _all_ for him. He could have remained in the Fire Nation. Iroh wasn't banished. Iroh had no quest to regain his honor. But to him, Zuko was important. Zuko was worth protecting and guiding.

Love wasn't a word that the prince threw around. But, it suited his feelings for Iroh.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: For you, JillRG. I'm not sure about this drabble. It's not quite what I had in mind, but took off on its own, like a lot of what I write tends to do. I might write another Mai one in the future.

**Zuko Drabble #16**

Mai

He often couldn't believe that she was with him. Her cool, elegant beauty alongside his scarred face seemed wrong somehow. She should have someone perfect and as handsome as she was lovely. Mai deserved that. But the scar was never an issue for her. She didn't talk about it or pity him or prod him mercilessly, looking for outpourings of emotion. She accepted it without question. Zuko appreciated that more than he could say.

The girl he liked in childhood, missed for three years and then reunited with, knew him remarkably well despite their time apart. She let him brood when he needed it. She could shift his mood when it became trying for those around him or when she sensed that even _he_ had had enough, sometimes gently and sometimes with a little bite. Only Mai had that power over him.

Mai exuded a sort of blasé nonchalance that he knew hid a well of emotions long suppressed. Her indifference, the shrugs and the monotone sometimes irritated Zuko. He wanted her to feel free enough around _him_, at least, to let her feelings come out to play. So when she showed anger, he was thrilled. When she snuggled in tight against him, or pressed her lips to his, he was ecstatic. She cared for him, liked spending time with him.

When he gazed into her hurt filled eyes at the Boiling Rock Prison, he knew that he loved her and walking away was harder than almost anything Zuko had ever done. When she saved his life, offered herself up to Azula so that he could escape and do what he needed to, Zuko knew he had witnessed the ultimate expression of emotion from the girl he adored. She was fierce and she was beautiful and oh so skilled with those knives he secretly loved that she wore.

When everything was over and Mai came back to him, her bright smile and her pink cheeks, so unusual for her, said everything. She loved him. Zuko couldn't be happier.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I like Aang but he's far from my favorite character and he's more of a struggle for me to write. I suppose he just doesn't interest me as much as certain other characters. But he and Zuko have a very interesting relationship and later on, a bond of friendship that will most likely be unbreakable.

**Zuko Drabble #17**

Aang

Before Zuko laid eyes on him, the avatar/Aang was just a means to an end, an ambition, not a person. Even after first encountering him and for those painful months of the chase, he thought of Aang only as the avatar, not a boy who could feel pain or fear or loss. Zuko needed to capture him and that was that; black and white, no grey, at least not then.

Aang sparked curiosity in him though. Those words he spoke, 'Do you think we could have been friends?' haunted him. The generosity it took to even contemplate the possibility overwhelmed the prince. The words spoke to Zuko's heart and made him ache deep inside. Friends were never much a part of _his_ life. He was sure that _Aang_ made them easily, with his cheerful smile and attitude, his energy and his kindness. The boy already had two devoted friends and protectors in the Water Tribe siblings. It was obvious that they loved the boy and would sacrifice for him willingly.

After every unsuccessful attempt to snag the boy, Zuko went over the failure step by step in his mind. Aang was quick witted and smart enough to use his environment to his advantage. He was flexible, flighty like his element was, full of strong gusts and gentle breezes. Zuko wondered if Aang knew just how serious his situation was.

When he finally joined the avatar and his group of friends at the Western Air Temple, Zuko pondered him again. Nothing much had changed. Perhaps the boy had a new found sense of seriousness but he was still happy and positive. He loved praise and also loved to give it. He wrapped his friends in a sense of warmth that reminded Zuko both of his uncle and of his mother. And he was one of those friends, Aang's friend.


	18. Chapter 18

**Zuko Drabble #18**

Azula

More than anything, Azula angered Zuko. And she angered him because she made him feel stupid, inferior, incompetent. She could bring him down with a simple sneer, a dismissive wave of her hand or one clipped, cool and cruel word. This ability was one of Azula's many gifts. She easily surpassed him in firebending and in studies. Her appearance was always immaculate and she never, ever lost her cool, or showed any emotions save for glee, self-satisfaction, or happiness that their father, Ozai, so obviously preferred her over Zuko.

She pounced on Zuko's 'weaknesses' like a mother mooselion pounced on anything approaching her cub. Zuko tensed immediately when his sister entered a room. His shoulders hunched as if expecting a physical beating rather than the emotional one he usually got.

Zuko would have been quite happy for Azula when she displayed such amazing gifts at a young age, _if _she hadn't rubbed his face in it. It was difficult to be complimentary and supportive when you yourself were put down and mocked by the very person you wanted to feel good for. So bitterness brewed inside Zuko instead.

He wasn't sad to leave her behind when he was banished, and wasn't pleased to see her again in that Earth Kingdom spa town. Azula lied to him brazenly and without missing a beat. And Zuko fell for it, so desperate was he to return home. Once again, she made a fool out of him, exploiting his desires, appealing to his need for honor.

And yet, he sided with her in Ba Sing Se, not out of love, but out of loyalty to his nation and his family. Maybe somewhere deep down, he hoped that their relationship might change, that maybe she would respect him now. It didn't and back in the Fire Nation, they might not have fought, but Azula's domination continued. She could trip him up without even trying and Zuko's frustration grew.

After her defeat and her unparalleled display of emotion, Zuko wondered if there was still a little girl in there somewhere who might one day need her brother.

Ozai

No matter how close Zuko sat to his father, the distance between them was always great. Ozai never touched Zuko except to grab him by the shoulders and shake when the boy got teary eyed over his mother's absence. His eyes took on a metallic coldness when they fell upon Zuko. Ozai was beyond even disappointment now. He just didn't care at all.

Zuko sensed it all keenly, but even after Ozai brutally burned him during their 'agni kai', he thought that it had to be his own fault. He deserved everything that Ozai gave him.

The breadth of his father's cruelty and insatiable need for power was brought home to Zuko during the second war meeting he ever attended. Somehow then Zuko knew that it was Ozai who had been wrong all those years. And when Zuko finally stood up to the man, he felt free.


	19. Chapter 19

**Zuko Drabble #19**

Toph

Zuko honestly had not paid much attention to the earthbending girl when he first saw her in that dusty, deserted, Earth Kingdom town. His mind was occupied with Azula; the avatar and his friends were almost incidental.

He didn't see her again until that day at the Western Air Temple when he pleaded his case to Aang. She listened calmly to his entreaties, the only one of the group whose face didn't register hate or hesitancy.

As he slowly incorporated himself into the group, Toph immediately stuck out. It wasn't just her bending, or her myriad disgusting habits, it was her strong voice, her fearlessness and her remarkable resemblance to her element. She was solid and sturdy like the earth under your feet, yet she would often hit you hard and put you off balance like a landslide or an earthquake. She was devoid of frills and flowery language and always spoke her mind, sometimes with unnerving bluntness.

Occasionally, she let something slip and her upper class upbringing was evident, to Zuko at least, the only one of the group raised in the same atmosphere. It could be a turn of phrase or the way she held her chopsticks. Zuko knew enough never to mention anything to Toph.

And she had a hidden core of vulnerability, that her brashness and independence did a fine job of hiding. Zuko recognized that as well, for he too had long hidden his pain behind anger and an unwavering determination.

When Toph spoke so kindly to him after the fiasco that was 'The Boy in the Iceberg' and then punctuated everything with one of her infamous punches of affection, Zuko was thrilled. This unusual girl now considered him a friend.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I have much love for Sokka.

**Zuko Drabble #20**

Sokka

He was the first real male friend that Zuko ever had; someone his own age or near enough, who was uncomplicated with a bumbling, goofy way about him that was sort of endearing and sometimes annoying. He had never figured Sokka for smart but quickly learned that the Water Tribe warrior had a knack for long and short range planning. His mind was quick and creative and he could be dead serious when the situation called for it.

Zuko soon discover that Sokka possessed a pragmatism that most of the group lacked, a willingness to get things done without flinching. He didn't balk when the situation got dirty. He dove in with enthusiasm, willing the others to do the same.

The guy with the boomerang was also a big kid at heart who got excited over things Zuko gave little thought to…..like food or some bird named Hawkey.

Underneath, though, was a core of steel. No one messed with Sokka's family or friends if he could help it. Once he welcomed you into his heart, unless you betrayed him utterly, you were there forever.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: After thinking about Sokka, I thought about the Boiling Rock and it inspired this drabble. I think Zuko would have been a crazy mixture of happy and sad after the prison rescue.

**Zuko Drabble #21**

Ruminations after The Boiling Rock

Zuko sat in a corner of the large airship as it made its way back to the Western Air Temple. He was huddled in on himself, arms wrapped around the knees of his simple red prison uniform. No one needed him right now. Chit Sang was keeping the airship afloat and he seemed happy to do the job.

Bits of conversation floated on the air back to him. Sokka's excited voice rose above that of his father and his girlfriend. The Water Tribesman was so thrilled to see them both. Zuko was truly happy for his new friend but that happiness didn't stop the creeping sense of melancholy from seeping its way slowly into his mind.

Sokka' father, Hakoda was his name, was obviously a good man, one who loved and protected his family, one who accepted his children for who they were. Zuko wondered if Sokka realized just how lucky he was to have a father like that. They were so easy with each other, their conversation and laughs flowing naturally. Zuko could almost feel the warmth when he stood near the father and son.

And Sokka just happened to see Suki, a girl he was obviously in love with, at the prison and she became part of their rescue and escape. Of course, Zuko saw_ his_ girlfriend at the Boiling Rock too. Their reunion was a little different, stressful and tense, and ending badly with Zuko locking her in his cell. Despite that, she saved his life and no doubt incurred Azula's wrath. Zuko found it so hard to believe that anyone would sacrifice so much for him, even though he knew Mai cared. He just didn't consider himself worth the effort.

The young firebender dragged his hands through his dark hair and sighed deeply. Mai was tough and could look after herself but Zuko was still terrified for her. He wanted to turn the damn ship around and drag her out of that hellish place. But he couldn't. He knew it and Mai knew it. She would probably kill him herself if he made an attempt. No, he had to use her gift wisely, continue to teach the avatar and bring down the rotten regime that ruled the Fire Nation and wanted the rest of the world under its thumb too.

Later that evening, as the group laughed and told stories and basked in the return of loved ones, Zuko rose quietly and moved away from the orange glow of the campfire. He walked alone under the moon and stars, thinking about Mai and Iroh and how good it would feel when he saw them again. He hoped that he would make them both proud.


	22. Chapter 22

**Zuko Drabble #22**

Ty Lee

A pink blur; she'd always been there, on the outside, the edge of his vision and thought. Azula was Zuko's sister and tormentor. Mai was his salvation. And Ty Lee was, well, she was Ty Lee.

She cart wheeled and flipped her way through life, always cheerful, always doing her best to please. Ty Lee was kind enough to Zuko. She was devoid of malice and just wanted fun.

Sometimes, Ty Lee turned away from Azula as if to compose herself. Zuko glimpsed hurt in her pretty grey eyes. She would give Zuko a bright smile as if disguising her sadness, and then turn back to her 'friend', ready for more.

He didn't see her again until the fall of Ba Sing Se. Ty Lee hadn't changed much. The girl still threw herself headlong into everything she did. Her effervescence still grated sometimes and the urge to yell, 'shut up' would hit Zuko at the oddest times. Still, her kindness had prevailed and so had her affection for the world and its people.

Courage was not a trait that Zuko attributed to Ty Lee. But, after she saved Mai's life at the Boiling Rock, Zuko's perspective changed and he looked back in shame to that day on Ember Island when he mocked her cruelly, and caught up in himself and his own issues, never thought to make amends. Ty Lee deserved better and Zuko would make sure that she got it.


	23. Chapter 23

**Zuko Drabble #24**

Song

Her scars were hidden, both by clothing and a sweet kindness that pervaded her every move and word. Despite his lengthy travels, Zuko had not had a lot of personal contact with people, let alone a girl his own age. Yet, there he was, stumbling over aliases and watching as she treated his Uncle Iroh.

She wanted him to open up, tell the story of his mark, form a connection with him. But Zuko was too worried about choosing words carefully as he lied or letting information out that should remain hidden. So he kept his face stern and immoveable, catching her hand before it touched something that so few had. She had shown him _her _scar; a gesture of solidarity. It shocked him momentarily. He tried to ignore the physical symptoms of the war that ravaged the world. Seeing them made him ask questions, ones he didn't want to ask. Those questions would lead him down a road he wasn't ready to travel. He pushed her away and she retreated gently, as she did everything.

Her name was Song and he betrayed her kindness.

Jin

Zuko took little notice of the buxom girl with long brown braids who sat in the same seat of the dingy teashop in Ba Sing Se's lower ring every day. He brought her tea silently, never making eye contact. Eventually, he _had_ to take notice. He felt her green eyes burn into his back every time he walked away from her. She must be a spy. She must know his true identity.

The refugee prince was flabbergasted when Iroh informed him that she had a crush on him. And when she, Jin, asked for a date, he almost fell over from shock. Iroh accepted for his dumbstruck nephew.

Sundown was the designated time. He met her outside the shop as she requested. Jin was so friendly and so familiar. She ruffled his hair and asked lots of questions. Nothing he did disturbed her in the least. Here was a girl who took everything in her stride, accepted things and people for who they were and didn't expect a lot.

When Jin dragged him by the hand to the 'firelight fountain', a name that stirred something in Zuko, and he saw the disappointment in her face at the lack of lights, the firebender was compelled to reignite her smile.

Her happiness at the moment she saw the lanterns ablaze was contagious. Zuko wore a genuine smile and was amazed that something so simple could make someone so joyful.

Jin's kiss was another shock and Zuko was unsure how to respond. The date was not his idea and much as he enjoyed it, Zuko knew that a second one wouldn't happen. He couldn't be himself. The strain would be too much. And the memory of another girl, the antithesis of Jin in so many ways, persisted.

Still, Jin had given him something. For a few brief hours, he was Lee, a sixteen year old boy on a date; normal, young, almost happy.


	24. Chapter 24

**Zuko Drabble #24**

Adrift

Zuko lay back and let his eyes droop as the makeshift raft he and his uncle had put together out of desperation and necessity, drifted slowly with the ocean currents. His face was bruised and scratched and his body still ached from both his explosive impact with the ocean a few days ago and his ordeal at the Northern Water Temple.

He was so tired, in body, mind and spirit. Three years of seeking, three years of failure, three years of missing home took its toll on a young man. He wondered now, as he watched icebergs pass through the narrow slits of his eyes, if hope was realistic any more.

Ashore

They were alive and that was about it. Azula had tricked Zuko once again and now he and Iroh were paying the price. The Fire Nation prince had gone from painful but straightforward banishment to outright traitorship, pursued by his sister, a girl not known for her kindness or her mercy.

He and Iroh were penniless and hungry and helpless. What did royals know about survival? Zuko's attempts to forage and fish were pathetic and he had never felt so useless in his life. Running a hand across his close cropped head reminded Zuko of his loss. The Fire Nation had never been further away.


	25. Chapter 25

**Zuko Drabble #25**

The Masters

With Aang at his side, Zuko climbs the steep set of steps that go nowhere, it seems. Once at the top, he stands hesitantly at the centre of the narrow platform. It leads to two separate openings in the jagged, rocky mountain surrounding the place of ceremony. The flame in his hand, a part of the original flame, a wonder in itself, burns strongly. It's warm and somehow solid and tickles his palm.

A loud horn like sound reaches his ears and a rumbling erupts from both caves. Strangely enough, he is not afraid. He's trembling with anticipation, though, and eager to see these masters once and for all.

When the dragons emerge, Zuko is stunned. He always thought, had been told, that they were all gone, slaughtered to gain the title of Dragon. Yet here were two, massive and fierce looking, ready to judge his heart and his soul, ready to either deem him worthy or not.

They snake and undulate around the pair, pausing occasionally to look right in golden and grey eyes. Zuko and Aang begin their dragon dance, and then the four are moving as one. As the dance ends, Zuko holds his breath. The blue dragon puts its enormous face close to his, nose curled up in a snarl, gold eyes discerning and huge teeth bared.

Finally, it breathes fire and Zuko is transported. He is engulfed in a swirling mass of colours, colours he never before associated with fire. Something in his mind clicks into place and understanding dawns. Everything he knows, everything he was taught as a child, is wrong. He sees now just how warped the Fire Nation is, how deluded and misguided. He sees now what the future _can_ be. _That _knowledge and _that_ truth heal a festering wound inside Zuko and he is changed forever. Now, he is a true son of Fire.

_Author's Note: I think that Zuko's encounter with the dragons is a profound and moving experience for him. That shot of him overwhelmed with understanding is one of my favorites of the whole show. I do see the encounter as the beginning of a second transformation for Zuko. Finally, he sees what real firebending is, the true meaning behind it and he will take that and use it for the rest of his life._

_BTW, I really need to write something lighter! Thanks for reading and reviewing._

_Alabaster_


	26. Chapter 26

Memories

Sometimes when he tried to recall a cherished memory, something good to give him strength, it slipped from his grasp and hovered, like a shimmering phantom, just out of reach. "Why are they so elusive?" Zuko wondered. "My mother, Mai, it's hard to picture their faces, hear their voices. Does that mean they're gone forever?"

Three years on a ship with no one but Iroh and nothing but memories to keep him company, to keep him sane; where did they hide? Zuko wished he could keep them in a box like the few special possessions he brought from home.

Sometimes, the memories came unbidden, when his mind was fog filled and exhausted and his body was near the end of its endurance. Moments of time gone by, sweet recollections of those few people he loved, gave him comfort.

It was as though the memories were alive themselves, real somewhere in time, and awoke to save him, to give him another dose of determination, another bit of courage. Maybe, just maybe, he would get a chance to see the people in his memories once again.

Zuko went on. What else could he do?

_A/N: I believe that memories played a large part in Zuko's banishment. We see a few instances of that in the show. I can picture him not only brooding, but thinking back to better times, in an effort to soothe himself._


	27. Chapter 27

Palace

Place of his birth and site of his shame, the Fire Nation palace was a study in contrast for Zuko. All reds and golds, the colours of fire, the colours of his nation, it could be claustrophobic, full of shadowed corridors and heavily curtained rooms closed to almost everyone.

The garden where he played as a child, where one day other children might play, was a place of light. His mother read there, clipped flowers to brighten rooms, fed the turtleducks with Zuko. The garden was Mai too. There he shared secret whispered talks and meaningful looks with the quiet girl. That's where he felt the first stirrings of love for her.

Part of Zuko died in the palace; when his mother left and when he was publicly shamed, bits of him floated away.

Returning there after Ba Sing wasn't what he expected and he should have known that. The rooms and halls were familiar and Mai was nearby. It wasn't right, though. Guilt and confusion mocked him at every turn.

Finally, as newly crowned Fire Lord, Mai at his side, friends surrounding him and the first tremulous steps of peace initiated, the palace was home.

A/N: I'm thinking of doing something similar with Mai. What do you think?


	28. Chapter 28

Funeral 

A servant entered the young prince's room, white funeral clothing trimmed with gold draped over his arm. Wordlessly, Zuko pulled on the pants and allowed the man to adjust the tunic. The servant tied the sash expertly and adjusted the stiff formal collar, standing back and declaring Zuko ready.

The ten year old prince joined his sister and father and they walked down hallways and out to the ceremonial plaza where a huge crowd was gathered. Up on the dais where he stood beside Ozai and Azula, Zuko looked at the crowd below. They were far away and small looking and he wondered if Mai was in there somewhere. He secretly wished that his mother was out there too. She had to be somewhere near didn't she? She wouldn't just leave him behind, would she? If Ursa were up here with him, Zuko could look at her and she would smile and then he would feel safe. He felt scared instead.

Grandfather Azulon's bier was nearby and the Fire Sages, all in white except one, stood silently, waiting to begin the simple ceremony. The head sage began to speak. The words drifted over Zuko; they were a simple recollection of an old man's life, an old man who was never kind to him, hardly acknowledged his existence and was now dead.

He was rigid and wide eyed, though, when he heard the words 'Ozai' and 'Fire Lord'. As Azulon burned behind him, Ozai accepted the diadem, and the crowd cheered his name. Zuko glanced at Azula. His sister wore a look of triumph, as if this whole day were the culmination of her machinations. That feeling of fear crept up Zuko's spine again. He was with his father and his sister but he was very much alone.


	29. Chapter 29

**Letter or On Leaving Home Again**

Every task Zuko performed felt symbolic. Pulling his dark brown hair out of its royal top knot and letting the tendrils fall loose was like grasping freedom. Taking off his armor and placing it down on his bed was a rejection of the war, a rejection of his father.

Now, the letter; how could he explain himself to Mai in a few short lines? How could he convey all his thoughts and feelings? He was never good with words. In his mind, everything was clear and organized. Once he began to talk or write, he stumbled over ideas, mixed things up, allowed emotion to overtake him. So, he took his time, spreading the paper out, making sure it was smooth and ready for the ink. He paused before picking up the brush and thought of Mai; her face, her touch, her scent. It was almost as if she was standing there beside him. But she wasn't. Mai had no idea of his plans and the news would no doubt upset her. That was not his intention, obviously, but it would be the outcome. He wanted her safe, not on the run with a traitor, vulnerable to attacks just because she cared for him. He would give her up if it meant her safety. The thought of losing Mai grieved him, made him ache inside like nothing else ever had. But he pushed those feelings aside. They would only get in the way of his purpose.

He tried but the letter was inadequate. Sighing because of that knowledge, he allowed the ink to dry, and then rolled up the paper, tying a red ribbon around it. He would take it to Mai's house himself and place it on her pillow, where she would see it right away. An image of her throwing blade after blade at it flitted through Zuko's mind.

"Don't hate me, Mai," he implored silently.

The city was deserted in preparation for the invasion and he slipped back into the palace unnoticed. It too was quiet, with everyone safe underground. He placed his mother's portrait on the ledge that surrounded his bed, lit two candles and knelt before it. He pledged to do better, to make the right choices.

It was time to leave. With swords and bag slung over his shoulder, he took a last look at his mother's face, unmindful of the room itself, and pulled up the hood of his cloak. Zuko _would _make her proud, wherever she was.


	30. Chapter 30

**Lee**

He didn't want to get involved. What was the point, after all? But the boy, Lee, was persistent, practically dragging Zuko to his home, smiling that goofy smile and declaring the older boy a hero. Lee's parents were kind and welcoming to the stranger, offering food and a place to sleep.

Zuko refused to take charity; his pride forbade it. Insightfully, the mother suggested working before eating. That was acceptable to Zuko. The Fire Nation prince tried his best, but hammering nails properly was not one of his skills. He felt clumsy and inadequate. The father accepted the effort for what it was, however, and Lee chattered away, curious and bold, asking questions that most didn't dare to.

Zuko heard the boy enter the barn and sneak off with his twin swords. He allowed it and surprisingly felt no anger. But they were big swords and he was just a little kid and Zuko didn't want him to get hurt. So he got up from the mound of hay and followed Lee, finding him in a vast field of sunflowers. He watched with amusement for a minute as the boy swung the blades with lots of enthusiasm but no technique.

Lee looked like a rabbaroo caught in a trap when Zuko spoke and the prince could only smile. He gave Lee a lesson and reveled in the rapt attention the boy gave back. It felt good to teach someone else. It felt good to see Lee smile at the praise Zuko gave. Even as an older brother, Zuko had never had the opportunity; Azula was always better than he was at everything.

When Lee compared Zuko to _his _older brother, away at war, the prince was flattered and felt a flood of warmth course through his body. Family could be good. It was possible.

Giving Lee his knife, his gift from Iroh, seemed right. It was Earth Kingdom made and belonged with an Earth Kingdom boy. His eyes shone and Zuko felt that warmth again.

Leaving the village, knife back in his tunic, his true identity known and Lee's reverence turned to hate and bitterness, was one of the hardest things Zuko ever did. He looked straight ahead, wide hat shading his eyes from the setting sun, face emotionless. But he wanted to look back, wanted to see the little boy once more, wanted to make it right. Never before had Zuko felt so keenly how the world viewed him and his nation. It hurt.

* * *

_A/N: 'Zuko Alone' is probably my favorite episode of AtLA (if someone forced me to pick). It never fails to break my heart. I suppose many Zuko fans feel the same way._


	31. Chapter 31

**Approach**

The smell of sea air and the slightly tacky feel of salt on his skin were as familiar to Zuko as his own reflection. The sounds of the sea rocked him to sleep at night, no matter how distraught he was and the sight of the ship's brow cutting through the blue green of the water soothed his troubled mind.

The returning prince stood on the deck, as he often did, alone in the early morning hours, and watched as the first of the Fire Nation's outer islands came into view. His thoughts were a constant whirlwind and the only thing that could bring him out of the morass that they were was Mai's presence. A word or a kiss from her would snap him back to reality and remind him that in some ways he was very fortunate.

When she left him alone, retiring to bed or visiting with Ty Lee or reading one of her books, his mind became a confused mess once again. Part of him wanted to follow Mai and sit with her; they didn't_ need_ to talk although sometimes they did and that was pleasant too. It was amazing just how quickly the pair had grown comfortable with each other, despite their three years apart. She accepted him, scar and misgivings and moods. He marveled at how lovely she was, all grown up, smart and skilled.

Zuko wondered what life would be like back home in the capitol city, ensconced in the womb like closeness of the palace once more. According to Azula ('but Azula always lies' ran like a mantra through his head), his father and his people would welcome him as a returning hero. It would be as if Zuko was never cast aside, never sent on an impossible quest (everyone thought), never disgraced. No matter how good things were, Zuko would _always_ remember. His three years away marked him as surely as his scar did.

He heard the clatter of shoes on the deck and turned to see Mai. She yawned and looked at him, shaking her head.

"Are you going to get up this early every day for the rest of your life?" she asked.

"Probably," Zuko replied with a smirk.

"Then I'd better get used to it," Mai muttered to herself as she linked her arm through Zuko's.


	32. Chapter 32

**Hero? or Return **

Why didn't he feel happy? The huge crowd cheered when Li and Lo announced his name and declared him a returning hero. He wanted the love of his people, didn't he?

Finally, after three years, everything he longed for and dreamed about was his. He was home in the Fire Nation, back in his bedroom at the palace and now stood before a welcoming crowd of Fire Nation citizens. They applauded conquest and murder. They roared happily as the fall of Ba Sing Se was dramatically described by the weird sisters*, those two who were a fixture in the lives of the royal family for years.

Zuko can't bring himself to smile or look triumphant like Azula. He can't wait to get off the dais and leave the crowd behind.

Guilt rips at him. Iroh is imprisoned and he is free.

"Uncle is a traitor. Uncle loves me. Uncle sided with the enemy. Uncle stuck by me through everything. Uncle is bad. Uncle is good."

Zuko did what he honestly thought he had to do in Ba Sing Se. He sided with his nation, remained loyal to his father and helped his sister, all so he could finally go home with his honor returned. The call of home was just too strong for him to ignore.

Further down were other thoughts, ones he tried even more desperately to ignore. "Father is cruel. Uncle is kind. The Fire Nation is wrong. The war is wrong. Uncle's talk of balance is the right way. I made the wrong choice."

Zuko felt trapped and suffocated. His own mind was a painful place to be.

But as he made his way to the back of the dais, he saw Mai waiting for him, that small smile just touching her lips. The thoughts faded somewhat. Something was good here. Something was right.

*Not intentionally a reference to Macbeth, but hey, if it fits…:)


	33. Chapter 33

**Guilt**

The prison loomed in the distance, cold white stone, rounded and tall, spattered with tiny windows and built right into the craggy black rock of the caldera that surrounded the edges of the capitol city like a protective wall. A drawbridge could be pulled up, isolating the prison completely.

It was night and the sky was riddled with stars. Zuko, wearing a long red outer robe with its hood pulled up, finished the climb and stood looking up at the edifice, inching slowly forward until he reached the drawbridge. He shouldn't be there. If anyone found out, he could be branded a traitor as well. But Zuko's sleep had been restless and filled with thoughts of Iroh. Worst of all were the images of his uncle's eyes, so filled with disappointment and hurt.

Maybe if he saw Iroh, face to face, something could be resolved. Maybe Uncle would grant him forgiveness, absolve him of his guilt and tell him that everything was alright. It was a childish hope, but Zuko held onto it tight.

As he crossed the bridge a guard spotted him and Zuko couldn't find the courage to continue. He turned away, face forlorn, and walked slowly back down the path and into the capitol city. The prince glided effortlessly through the streets until he reached the palace, sneaking past guards and back into his room.

Pulling off his cloak, Zuko crawled wearily into bed and hoped for a dreamless sleep.


	34. Chapter 34

**Longing**

"Uncle, when you were fourteen, what were you doing?" he asked Iroh one day, out of the blue.

"Well now, nephew, that was a long time ago. Let me think."

Iroh stroked his beard and looked thoughtful for awhile before he answered.

"I had already met the wonderful girl that I would marry."

Zuko nodded.

"I had a lot of training in firebending and had to practice a lot too. My studies were done by that time. I suppose my father was preparing me for the war."

"Did you have friends?"

Iroh looked at Zuko with concern. The boy rarely took an interest in Iroh's life or in anything besides finding the avatar and improving his _own_ firebending. He was usually intense and ill tempered, often contemplative but not about others.

"Yes, I had friends, some very good ones in fact."

"Oh," Zuko replied. "What was that like?"

"It was good to have friends, other boys my age to share things with. We had a lot of fun together."

Zuko wanted to ask other questions, like whether Iroh had kissed a girl or whether he had dinner with his family every night, but decided to stop instead.

"What's all this about?" Iroh asked.

"I was just wondering," Zuko replied a little sadly.

The banished prince left his uncle's quarters and walked back up on deck, staring at the Earth Kingdom town they were docked at. He and Iroh had walked through it earlier while the rest of the crew bought supplies. There had been a gang of boys about Zuko's age, strolling through the streets, flirting with girls, stopping to buy food and generally having a good time. Unconsciously, Zuko followed them, watching closely everything they did. He stayed far enough back to remain unnoticed, ducking into doorways or blending in with shadows when the group felt eyes watching them and whirled around.

"Idiots wasting time," he whispered, but the expression on his face was wistful.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Because I watched 'The Chase' the other day:

**Try, Try Again**

Zuko knew Azula was inside that tank like monstrosity making its way across the dusty Earth Kingdom terrain. Father would spare no expense for _her_. Her hunt for both the avatar and himself along with Uncle would be made as comfortable and easy as possible.

"She always gets the best of everything," Zuko growled as he followed the tracks on his ostrich horse, images of Azula's large, luxurious ship drifting through his memory.

He would never catch up, not while that thing was moving at such a high speed, but it would stop eventually and he could confront his sister again. He wanted so badly to defeat her just once. Azula always made him look like a fool, an incompetent one at that, and he was sick of it. He was the older of the two by a couple of years. Why was she so much more accomplished than he was?

Anger boiled inside him; rage at his situation, his 'failings', his lot in life. He was sick of the struggle. Sometimes he just wanted to lie down and not get up again. It would be easier. But that desire to live, inherent in all beings, won out. There was always a chance that his life might improve. Maybe one day he would get back what was his.

When he finally encountered her again, it was in a deserted town, full of tumbleweeds and the remnants of despair. The avatar was there too. A few moments of stillness, with all three trying to anticipate the first move, was followed by a furious battle.

As usual, Azula got the best of him and he spent more than a few minutes on his back unconscious, while his sister continued her bending battle with the avatar. Coming out of his haze, he heard Iroh's voice. Had his uncle been following behind the whole time? Zuko felt a surge of warmth for the man, this man who cared enough to let him go yet still kept an eye on him.

The avatar's friends were there now, including a new one, an earthbending girl. They backed Azula into a corner and faced her. He joined them and Uncle did too. She would be defeated. How could she escape? How could she take them all on?

The princess's slick, honeyed voice spoke of surrender and knowing when to accept defeat. Hope fluttered in Zuko's chest. But, no, she lies, she always lies and her most recent words were no exception. He saw the blue sparks arise from her fingertips, saw the lightning form, and wondered where she would direct it. When it hit Iroh, striking him in the left side, Zuko almost lost his mind. Iroh fell and Zuko turned back to the girl whose destiny it seemed, was to destroy him. Summoning strength, he threw fire at Azula while the others threw air, water and earth.

It wasn't enough. It was never enough. And Iroh might die or might be dead already. It was his fault. Iroh always saved him and this time was no exception. He stared at his uncle's motionless form and anguish squeezed his chest tightly. He was helpless.

When the Water Tribe girl offered _her_ help, he refused, pride getting the better of him again. Iroh was _his _to save.


	36. Chapter 36

**Caricature**

The entire production was ridiculous. At least half the information was incorrect. The performances were over the top and the dialogue melodramatic almost to the point of being funny. Zuko looked on in disbelief as the Ember Island Players portrayed significant moments of his life, terrible moments all of them; embarrassing, painful and guilt inspiring.

Huddled at the back of the theatre with his new friends and allies, he was _with_ his countrymen but never had he been so far apart from them. He couldn't be seen, couldn't speak with them all for fear of being recognized and captured, returned to his father and sister, who would both gladly tear him into tiny pieces. Or maybe they would rather burn him alive. Yes, that was more likely. Fire was the noble method of killing after all. Neither Fire Lord nor princess would taint themselves with anything else.

Zuko's thoughts were all over the place, zigzagging forward and backward, recalling the past and then speculating about the future. He had no control over them. The play had opened up something in his mind, some doorway or porthole. He wished that he could close it again. Maybe if he left. But he couldn't. Terrible though the play was Zuko was somehow compelled to see it through.

When 'Mai' glided onto the stage, with her exaggerated hair, twin knives sticking out from the buns, and the face of neutrality on her chest, everything around the prince grew misty, fading almost from sight. There she was, the love of his life, or some bizarre version of her; Mai yet not Mai, perhaps the closest he would ever get to her for the rest of his days. That thought shook him to the core.

His Mai, but not his Mai, impossibly far but so tantalizingly close; it wasn't fair and it hurt. He closed his eyes and thought of his girl. He prayed that Azula showed mercy. 'Let her be all right; even if I can never see her again, let her be all right.'

"Did you say something, Zuko?" Katara nudged him in the ribs, a little harder than was necessary.

"No, nothing at all," he responded jerkily.

He closed his eyes again and recalled holding Mai, placing tender kisses everywhere. When he opened them again, 'Mai' was gone.


End file.
